


The Sound of Mistakes

by Canadiantardis



Series: Whumptober 2020 [18]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Anxious Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Gen, Music, Musical Audition, Panic Attacks, Virgil plays the trombone, technically its more high school but trying to get into a college
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canadiantardis/pseuds/Canadiantardis
Summary: “You’ll be amazing, Virgil,” Patton soothed as Virgil paced outside the auditorium.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, platonic DRLAMP
Series: Whumptober 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920886
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	The Sound of Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> Day 18: Panic Attacks  
> This one is very much not whumpy. It hints at angst and shit, but like, it's pretty tame. Enjoy!  
> The video that is referenced here is [ This Youtube Link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EaPmysTfVFI)

“You’ll be amazing, Virgil,” Patton soothed as Virgil paced outside the auditorium.

Patton and the rest of their friends watched the taller teen wring his hands before Janus sighed and grabbed Virgil’s wrists, causing him to stop and stare at his friend, barely breathing.

“Virgil, you need to breathe or you’ll pass out on stage trying to play,” he warned, keeping Virgil’s eyes locked onto his. “Follow my lead, okay?”

Virgil followed, mimicking the deep breaths Janus exaggerated until the lightheaded feeling faded. His thoughts were still racing a mile a minute, but he wasn’t yet totally at panic attack levels anymore.

Arms wrapped around Virgil’s waist, and he felt Patton’s chin rest against his shoulder. “I know you don’t want us in there when you go, so we’ll be waiting just outside the doors and we’ll go see a movie or something as a celebration regardless of what happens.”

“But you will _obviously_ pass,” Roman said to their left, running a hand through his hair. “You’ve been playing since elementary. You’ll get in, easy-peasy.”

Virgil nodded, begging his dumb mind to accept the words his friends and boyfriend were reassuring him with.

“It’s time, Virgil,” Logan said, glancing at his watch. He quirked his lips up as he moved to grab the instrument case to hand to him. “Focus on the music, and ignore everything else. We’ll be waiting on the other side.”

Virgil nodded, muttering the word ‘yeah’ over and over as he took the case. Steeling his nerves, he stepped into the auditorium.

While Logan had said it was time, he still had another person in front of him to perform. He slipped into the back, letting the people in charge know he was there and would be ready for his audition. A few other early-birds were waiting backstage as well, warming up their own instruments or invisibly practicing whatever piece they planned on performing for the judges.

Virgil sat down a little ways away and opened his case, grabbing his mouthpiece first and blowing air into the metal to warm it up before grabbing the trombone. He put the mouthpiece into place and checked to make sure the slide moved smoothly and nothing was stuck. As well, he grabbed the music sheet from inside the case and checked it over, mentally practicing the slide movement for each note. It had been a piece originally for the violin, but Virgil had seen, when looking for trombone solo pieces to work with that would fit in the time constraint, someone back in the '80s had made it for trombone. It was… ambitious, but when Virgil had asked for help deciding on the pieces with Patton, his boyfriend had all but enthused about this piece, and so for the past half-year, Virgil had been using all of his free time listening to the original video, practicing, and asking his music teacher for help, as long as she was free to do so.

They all could hear the current audition in the back. A flute, going with a soft and sweet melody that soothed some of Virgil’s nerves some more. He remembered when his parents let him try flute, back in middle school, but he was so bad at keeping the melody properly, even for a song as easy as Frosty the Snowman. He and his parents all agreed he was not cut out for it, and turned back to the lower tones like tuba or bass saxophone.

All too soon, the melody ended and there was a bit of muffled talk before the flautist stepped through the curtain to the back, a careful neutral expression on their face. They wouldn’t know _immediately_ if they passed or failed the audition, though there tended to be clues apparently given when the judges spoke to them before it was time for the next musician to perform.

“Virgil Knight, it’s your turn,” The flautist spoke to the group there and Virgil stood up so fast he almost blacked out then and there. The flautist glanced at him and smiled warmly. There was no beef between the different instruments during auditions. They only had to compete with their own other sections. Virgil wondered if he would have a better chance with the trombone since there weren’t as many people who auditioned for them - at least to his knowledge.

Whatever the case, he smiled back as the flautist held the curtain for him to walk through, onto the stage.

There were three judges in sight, talking amongst each other as they wrote more for the flautist - _or maybe they were already about him,_ some part of him thought traitorously - before one noticed him walking into the spotlight.

“Virgil Knight?” She asked, and he nodded, so she continued. “Please go to the music stand, introduce your piece, and play.”

Virgil nodded again and did as she instructed, placing his sheet music onto the stand and setting it up so he could see properly. A sudden wish that he could have worn his hoodie struck him, but that would have been a bad idea. He instead wore something Logan helped pick out to look professional yet easy to play in without cinching his movements.

“Uh, hello, my name’s Virgil Knight, and the, uh, the piece I’ll be playing is a transposed solo of Czardas for trombone,” he cursed his wavering voice, but took a deep breath, shut his eyes for a split second, turned to the music stand, and began to play.

He played at a bit of a sedated pace, at first before picking up the speed to where it was supposed to be, and allowed the sound to be the only thing on his mind. He took deep breaths when he could, and the buzz of his lips kept him grounded as he played, feeling the music.

Still, he noticed every tiny squeak, the wrong placement or the wrong note but right placement and wanted to die a little inside at every single one, and o _h gods the judges would clearly notice every mistake and he’d never get in and…_

He finished the piece, breathless and dizzy and struggling to not faint then and there as the judges said some things he could not actually hear over the roar in his ears. If he wasn’t so panicked, he would have heard them compliment him for choosing such an interesting piece and for his technique. He barely heard them say to bring in the next musician, a Katie Hart, and he moved mechanically, spoke words he couldn’t hear, and moved on autopilot.

It wasn’t until he reached his case and put his trombone safely away, that the mistakes came back at him tenfold and he couldn’t see anything but the mistakes, and how he must have been the worst trombonist in existence and he was never going to get into the music program and his life was a waste and an _d and-_

“Yo, man, are you okay?” An unfamiliar voice startled him and he stared up with wide eyes at the person. The person seemed to recognize something about him as he gave a start and knelt down next to him. “Oh shit, dude, it’s okay. I heard you playing. Whatever mistakes you think you made were barely noticeable, if any.”

Virgil _really_ wanted to believe it, and he somewhat did, because it was a complete stranger and not anyone biased. It also helped that it was another musician, who seemed to understand the feeling of making mistakes. But the mistakes felt so much bigger than the guy was making it out to be.

“You did really good, man,” the guy said again, looking around before back at him. “I think so anyway. Trombone’s a tough instrument, at least for me, but you were really good.”

The praise worked, and Virgil managed to take a deep breath. Instead of panic, however, an overwhelming sense of embarrassment hit him at the knowledge he just barely avoided a panic attack in front of a bunch of complete strangers and one was kind enough to help him through it before it got too bad.

The guy smiled at him. “Good luck, I hope you make it into the program. I think you’ll do really well in it,” he said as he stood up, helping Virgil up as well, before slowly parting ways. He kept glancing back at Virgil, as if to check in with him and make sure he was really okay and it had him heating up.

Virgil quickly headed out to find his friends, readying himself for the group hug and Patton smothering him in comforting kisses. Suddenly, he was very glad they had decided to watch a movie, regardless of how well or poorly Virgil had done, because he needed the de-stressor.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [ LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> This author replies to comments.
> 
> This also made me remember a lot of my high school music life. I miss those simple times, kinda. Hey! If any of yall play instruments, talk music to me! I used to play flute(and piccolo) in band, though now I mainly sing~


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